Disconnect
by grim grace
Summary: AU S/S. Seth was in love with Summer his entire high school life, but nothing ever came of it. Seven years after graduation they meet again.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I have two exams coming up, and have therefore decided to begin writing three more stories to avoid studying. (Great for you guys, not great for me).

**Nb. **Seth and Summer are the most perfect couple ever created. I am in love with Adam Brody, and Rachel Bilson, equally (lol, no, ADAM BRODY I LOVE YOU).

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**S. **_AU S/S. _Seth was in love with Summer his entire high school life, but nothing ever came from it. Seven years after graduation they meet again.

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The look of pure terror that ran across the young intern's face was almost enough to make Summer want to follow through on her last threat. It was frustrating that this kid was the only person apparently available to help out today, but the fact that he was almost entirely incompetent made him a little more difficult to stand. With a quirk of her brow she sent the boy running, before grumbling to herself and shifting her weight to one of her legs. Looking down at the clip board in front of her, she didn't even notice Che until he was standing right beside her.

"A little harsh there, Summer-bear, don't you think?" He called out, even though he was next to her. Ordinarily, Summer would have had her issues, but there was something about her friend's drawn out voice that softened her a little.

She sighed, and let her shoulders drop. "I'm sorry," she said, not meaning it at all, "but it's just—we have eighteen volunteers we should be able to call with this. And three of them showed up because of that stupid concert in the park."

Che nodded absently. "The force is waning, Summer. We have to do something to reignite the fire."

Summer rolled her eyes at the obscure way her friend always spoke, but suddenly felt defensive when she heard a snort from behind her. Turning on her heel, ready to give the snorter a good lecture about etiquette, and tell them all about the animals that Che has saved with his passion, oddities notwithstanding, she found herself face to face with the only guy she wasn't allowed to yell at today.

Lucky for him, however, Mitchell wasn't really laughing at Che. Well, he was laughing, but it was more of a good natured chuckle than actual mirth. He shook his head as they both turned their attention to him.

"Oh, Che. Always interesting around you." He sighed, still laughing slightly.

Summer smiled appreciatively, letting her hackles back down while Che took an aggressive (well, as aggressive as Che could get) step forward. "I am not kidding. People are less interested, the cause is dying."

Mitch just sighed. "The cause is fine. Have you looked at the entry rates? Because apparently the security at both entrances is letting people in for different prices."

Summer flinched. "Damnit." She said, "what's the difference?"

Mitch shrugged. "Looks like they're getting in for five bucks at the south gate, but twenty five at the north gate."

The concert was G. E. O. R. G. E.'s biggest fundraised for the summer. With paid entry, bands volunteered to play for the concert, and all the funds raised went to the environment. In this case, they were fighting against logging as an institution. When an entire idea rested it's foundations on cutting down the natural habitats of endangered animals, it obviously had to be protested. People had the options of paying for cause t-shirts and caps, as well as signing the petition to take logging in America before the government. Che and Mitch, who along with Summer, were now some of the more senior members of G. E. O. R. G. E., had been lucky enough to get in on either the selling (Che) or the administrative angles of the event. Summer had been less lucky.

Because of her many newspaper spots and interviews over the years, on behalf of the organisation, Summer was in charge of sorting out the media coverage of the event. She'd worked with Tanya Lyon before, back when she was doing modelling in senior year of high school, so it was already difficult for her to be taken seriously.

But for now, it appeared the issue was Che's.

"We agreed on fifteen." Summer intoned, while Che moved quickly to the books. (He may have had unconventional methods, but when it came down to it, Che was uncannily organised). "How does that get to five, or twenty five?"

Again, he only shrugged. "I guess there's a reason the beefcakes are in security," he said simply. "A-levels, bad university, no university at all—you know."

"I'll take care of that, bossman." Che said snapping the folder closed, and moving away immediately.

As soon as Che was gone, Mitch turned to Summer. "Tanya's kicking up a fuss. Some of the band members refuse to do interviews without getting paid, but she's telling everyone that interviews were included in her contract."

Summer stared at him.

"Is she also telling everyone that she's full of crap? Because if she doesn't, I will."

Mitch grinned. "That's my girl. Can you take care of it? The next act is supposed to go on soon, and if we don't get the ratings we need on the live TV program, there's a chance they'll stop the coverage."

Summer sighed, and nodded. "Fine." She said, "but you better be watching the newbie's—I'm not responsible for any more of their screw ups, dude."

Mitch mock-saluted her as she turned on her heel and she rolled her eyes. "Also, I'm getting myself a coffee before I talk to Tanya."

Mitch made a noise that made Summer hesitate, and she turned around, daring him to question her. The threat of her rage blackouts didn't seem to threaten him and he sighed. "Do you have time for that, Summer? Tanya's being pretty unreasonable."

She watched him for a moment through narrowed eyes before she settled one angry hand on her hip. "You want to see how unreasonable she'll be when I shove her own microphone into her eye? Because that's what's going to happen if I go and talk to her without the coffee." She paused. "Your call." (It wasn't actually, but she was pretty sure that he knew that).

Mitch considered her for a moment before sighing. "Be quick." He said. "And get me a short black."

.

"I don't know what to tell you, Ryan," Seth said, using his hip to open the cafe door while his hands struggled to hold onto his sketchbook, office files and his laptop. His phone was squished between his shoulder and his ear as the door opened, but Seth quickly found that the line for the coffee blocked him from entering further. Sighing, he glanced around the room for a moment, before readjusting the things in his hands to one so he could take the phone into the other. "There's really nothing else to say."

Ryan chuckled into the receiver. "Nothing? That's a first for you."

Seth brushed off the comment lightly. "Well, if nothing else, my lack of desperation to talk about myself should tell you how serious this is. I don't even have time to complain any more, Ryan."

The whooshing noise that Ryan let out was almost as sarcastic as Seth, and as close to a joke as he was going to get from the architect at this time of the morning.

"I'll tell Sandy and Kirsten that you won't be able to make it, but you're the one who's going to have to explain to Sophie why you're not going to make it." Ryan said.

Seth let out a noise like a whine immediately in protest. "Ryan—you can't do that to me, dude. She's got the persuasive powers of both Sandy and Kirsten Cohen. You can't expect me to go up against that alone."

Ryan paused.

"Shouldn't you have also gotten their persuasive powers as well?" Ryan pointed out.

"Irrelevant." Seth said immediately. "I'm not also a blonde little girl who wears pigtails, nor am I an evil genius. Sophie, on the other hand..."

"Sophia is seven years old, Seth." Ryan pointed out dryly.

"See?" Seth said. "How am I expected to go up against that? I've got no chance, even with my good looks and charm."

"Or without those."

"You _wound _me, Ryan, and I take offence." Seth said immediately, shifting slightly so that he could fit in between the door and the end of the line. The laptop was shifting slightly, and he knew he would have to hang up soon, or something that could give him use of both his hands. Since he still hadn't quite convinced Ryan to help him, he instead pushed his hip out a bit, the change in angle saving the laptop for at least another couple of minutes.

"Seriously, Seth," Ryan said, suddenly forlorn. "I am not giving Sophie some excuse about why you're missing her birthday."

"It's _not _an excuse," Seth said quickly. "Zach and I are working on more stuff for the books, and the release is in two weeks. Reed's got the publisher's dinner the same night and I can't miss it."

"Then tell Sophie that." Ryan replied simply. "I am not telling her."

"You're just scared of her," Seth accused him.

There was a moment of silence. Then, "you just called her an evil genius, Seth. Man up."

"You're the brawn, I'm the brains, remember?"

"Are you implying that delivering the message that you're missing her birthday is going to require physical strength?"

"Yes, actually. She's a scratcher, Ryan. And she punches hard. She must have gotten than from you."

"No. She punches like a seven year old girl," Ryan said. "She must have got _that _from you."

Sometimes, Ryan's rare displays of wit actually put him on the back foot. The guy was ordinarily so broody and silent that witticisms were not common from him. Ryan was usually a guy who said what he thought, if he had to say anything at all. Usually, he could convey a lot in a look—a skill that Seth had never really perfected.

Still, the laptop was slipping again, and Seth predicted that he only had a few more seconds to convince Ryan before he would absolutely have to hang up.

"Just tell her that I won't make it. I'll definitely be there for the party on the Sunday." Seth implored.

"You tell her."

"But—"

"Good bye, Seth."

It was a good thing that Ryan hung up at that point, because Seth had barely enough time to hear the click of the receiver when the laptop slipped fully from his grasp. Out of instinct more than anything else, Seth lunged forward, saving the laptop at last second, but loosing the papers from work, and dropping his blackberry to the ground.

"Damnit." Seth muttered, ignoring the people looking at him and reaching for the contracts that he'd signed earlier, before his impending meeting with Reed.

"Here," a voice from behind him said. "Let me help you."

Seth jerked backwards in surprise. He'd learned recently that the people in New York weren't exactly warm. In fact, most of the patrons in the coffee shop were looking at him like he was mentally ill. (Which he was used to, considering his abysmal high schooling experience). Not many people would have leant over to help him pick up his things.

But there she was, a short brunette, already kneeling on the ground with him, gathering the fallen papers and stacking them. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, the Sandy Cohen in him kicked into gear and he hurried to thank her. Joining her on the ground, he set the laptop down delicately, before moving to grab the rest of the paper, opening the file.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, reaching for the back of his phone. It has split into three parts on collision, and while the battery and back had come off, the screen looked fine from where he sat. It was lying too close to her knee for him to be totally comfortable reaching across and grabbing it. "I'm sorry about this."

He was happy to apologise to her, because she was helping. Apparently this woman had a soul, unlike everyone else, who were all glaring at him for holding up the line (which actually hadn't moved since his accident).

"No problem." The girl said. "I saw it coming, and got out of the way. Probably shouldn't be holding this much stuff in one hand, though."

Seth smirked slightly. She was offering him advice? "Yeah, alright. Sorry again."

She noticed his phone at her knee and reached for it. "Oh," she said as she pulled it up. "Doesn't look broken—you're lucky it wasn't an iPhone—a fall would have broken one of those."

"With good reason. They're crap phones."

She made a scoffing noise. "I have an iPhone." She said as they both rose to their feet, she caught his eye for the first time and Seth' heart stammered to a stop (metaphorically, duh).

_No _freaking _way. _

"Summer Roberts?" Seth asked incredulously, staring at the girl from high school who had pretty much occupied his thoughts throughout his adolescence. His voice sounded unsure, staring at her now, as though he might have had doubts about who she was.

He didn't.

He would recognise those eyes anywhere, and that little smile. Not that either had ever once been directed in his direction, but Seth had been a teenage boy when he liked her. Staring and obsessing didn't seem quite as worrying back then as it might have now. This was Summer Roberts, _the _Summer Roberts—the one he'd practically have died for at any point between the age of five and eighteen.

She clearly wasn't having the same epiphany.

"Uhm, do I know you?"

The part of Seth's brain that had previously been marvelling at the sheer unlikelihood that they run into each other stopped, and he couldn't even help the flinch. _Obviously, _she wouldn't remember him. She didn't even know him. It would be a wonder if she recalled who he was once he told her his name.

"Sorry," he apologised first, even if he was feeling more resentful than apologetic at that point. "Uhm, I'm Seth Cohen. We were at Harbour together. Back, um, in high school."

Okay no. This was not acceptable. He was suddenly reverting back to the bashful teenager he'd been—and while some might yearn for that kind of perceived youth, the eternal loser inside of him was shouting and screaming. He would not be that guy around her again. She clearly wasn't interested in that guy.

Come on. He was successful now. His comic book was being turned into a film in less than six months, and they were getting Jared Padalecki to play The Ironist (okay, so there was a height discrepancy, but Seth wasn't complaining). Those were things to boast about to the girl who got away (alright, the girl he never had).

Still, oblivious to what was going on in her head, she furrowed her brow. "Back at the OC? That's cool—what year were you?"

Okay, yeah, that was kind of like a Sophia punch to the gut. Whatever. Brush it off. Jared Padalecki. Atomic County was becoming a movie. Stay cool, Cohen.

"Class of 2003. So, um, yours."

The awkward silence that followed his words was only broken by the badly disguised laugh of the guy he was standing behind. Obviously, New Yorkers ignored people unless there was some inherent entertainment value.

She flushed slightly, while Seth avoided her eye. "_Cohen!_ Right—you were friends with Zach Stevens, right?"

Ah, Zach. His saving grace. When the guy had come to Harbour Prep in their Junior year, he was pretty much Seth's only friend outside of Ryan. But Ryan was still at Newport Union—he hadn't gotten past the first test and hadn't been allowed into Seth's school. Funnily enough, there had been some drama with Summer's friend Marissa at the time, but they'd quickly got past that faux friendship, and ignored each other beyond that.

But he was getting away from the point. With Ryan at a different school, Zach had pretty much saved Seth. They'd bonded over their mutual appreciation for comic books, even if Zach had been a water polo player. In fact, they'd bonded over their mutual appreciation for almost everything. And yes, that included Summer. Seth was lucky that he'd told Zach about his obsessive crush despite his dignity, because the harsh reality was that Zach had come far closer to dating Summer than Seth ever had. It was the bro code that had stopped that from ever occurring, not that Zach would ever say that. He was too good a guy, and too good a friend to ever say something like that. Instead, he'd stayed away from Summer, and was still Seth's business partner now, the other half of the combined effort that was _Atomic County. _

Seth nodded awkwardly, and she smiled, grateful for finding something that she could remember.

"You live here now, Cohen?" She asked brightly, even though Seth suspected she'd already forgotten his first name.

He nodded his head anyway. "Yeah, actually. With Zach actually. We work together."

She nodded, looking intrigued. "No shit," she observed. "That's pretty cool. What brought you to this coast?"

Seth shrugged. "Just that it was absolutely everything that Newport wasn't." He said sarcastically, before he could consider not opening his mouth.

Summer frowned for a moment before forgetting it, and moving on. "Yeah, there really is a world outside of that place, isn't there?"

He wasn't actually sure if she was serious or joking, which confused him. He'd loved Summer for a lot of his life, and he hadn't really considered her to be mysterious or anything. She was an amazing woman, he had decided when he was seven, but not complicated. But something in Seth's head told him that she might have been mocking him.

Which was actually kind of cool, if he thought about it.

There was an awkward stand in conversation, as he moved a little further along in the line. There were about three people between him and his coffee now.

"What about you?" he said, "you living here?"

She shook her head, and part of his stomach plummeted. The stupid part, he said, as he pushed the feeling from his mind and focused on her face (she was still as amazing to look at as she'd ever been).

"Just here for a couple of months with work," she said. "But I'm looking for somewhere to settle soon, so I'm covering my bases. Do you like New York?"

Seth nodded his head. "Yeah, a lot. Busy, brisk, no one talks to anyone."

Summer cast an awkward look around the coffee place. "Yeah, I've noticed that." Seth smiled but said nothing (he had no freaking clue what to say, even if his brain was working over time trying to come up with something casual or cool). So Summer continued. "So what do you do now?" She asked.

Thank god, the question he'd been waiting for. Now he could at least rub in her face that he'd been successful. That was the sort of thing that shouldn't have pleased him, but totally did. Not to the point of cruelty or anything, she was always destined to be successful, but he hadn't—and that was something that he was proud of.

"I'm actually working with a director right now," he said as casually as he could. "Trying to get mine and Zach's novel turned into a film." He smiled, and conveniently left out the part that said it was a 'graphic' novel. She didn't need to know that he hadn't quite left his nerd life behind him.

Summer didn't look jealous or angry or anything, just intrigued. "That's cool. I've always wondered about that process." She said. "You're up."

For a second he didn't know what she was talking about, until he remembered that he was standing in line for the coffee he'd been craving all day. Zach was back at the office, skipping his lunch break to go over the details again, while Seth hadn't been able to think. Caffeine was the only solution.

Quickly, he ordered, before stepping aside. He didn't really know how he was going to carry his coffee from the counter, but if he managed to get to that table, he'd be able to stuff some of the office papers into the laptop case—which would lighten some of the load.

"It's quite simple, actually." Seth continued once she had also ordered. He was finding it easier to talk about himself than think about what she thought of him. (It was a talent). "At the moment we're still talking to people from legal about the details, but after that it's pretty much find a place to film and finalise the script."

She nodded her head. "That is so cool, Cohen. Congratulations. And tell Zach as well."

Seth nodded, smiling. Yep, he was proud of himself. And she'd gotten his last name right three times in a row. That was a sign, right? Both the coffee's came out at about the same time and Seth found himself surprised again when Summer picked them both up. "This would be more of a pain to spill," she explained, at his inquisitive glance.

"Thanks."

"No problem. So you have people from legal? Sounds like you've made it big. I should have hung out with you in high school." She joked.

And the awkward silence that came from that made Seth kind of wish he could spill the coffee just to ease the tension.

"Um, yeah," Seth said awkwardly. "Look, thanks for helping with the coffee and the paper, but I should probably..." he let it trail off, hoping that she'd get the message. He couldn't really believe he was sending Summer Roberts away, but he wasn't super keen to regress to his high school counterpart at this point of his life. And it looked that she could remember him after all.

"Wow, Seth, I didn't mean that..." she said slowly. Seth was surprised by the fact she could remember his name, but didn't press.

"No, don't worry." Seth said quickly. "I'll see you around, Summer."

He shoved his files into the sketchbook, and then pushed that into the laptop case. Grabbing the coffee from her, he half smiled at her before stepping past her and out the door. He was stopped about four seconds later though, when Summer followed him out.

"You forgot your phone." She said quickly, fiddling with the blackberry. "But I texted myself your number with it. You seem cool, and I wasn't a great person in high school. I'd love to catch up."

Seth flinched again. He would love it if she stopped pitying him. He had his dignity didn't he? He didn't respond as he took the phone back from her, only frowning slightly. She smiled at him for a moment, before turning on her heel and leaving. Seth pocketed the phone, still with a frown on his face, and sighed, turning and walking in the opposite direction.

She wasn't going to call.

.

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**A/N: **Thoughts? I'm not sure on my characterisation, which is embarrassing because it's something I usually pride myself with. Feedback would be brilliant. I'm not sure what to expect, because I'm not sure how many people are still on The OC section. But I'm a sucker for Seth and Summer, and I felt I needed to write something for them.

Review? It'll get better.

(PS. The AU, thus far, is that Ryan didn't attend Harbour Prep with them, and therefore, Seth's social life didn't quite improve—also, Ryan and Marissa never really dated beyond about the first four episodes, and Summer never bothered to get to know Seth.) I hope that all makes sense.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I have one exam left and work tomorrow. So I'm going to try to get this chapter out by tonight. You can have the exam and my hours at work. But not Captain Nicholls, my phone, or my bitching new fur beanie (WHICH COMES WITH EARS).

**Nb. **Seth and Summer are perfection. Anyone who compares them to the travesty that is Dan and Blair will get nothing from me.

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**S. **_AU S/S. _Seth was in love with Summer his entire high school life, but nothing ever came from it. Seven years after graduation they meet again.

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"Do you remember him though?" Summer said into the phone as she wonders around her small trailer. Normally, she would be sleeping in the main bus, but she found that on longer excursions like this New York one, it was easier to maintain a bit of distance (mostly to help with her rage blackout to be honest).

Marissa laughed into the phone. They'd been talking for the last forty five minutes about life and all its intricacies, and Summer was extremely glad that she got free calls to a list of five people on the same service provider. If Marissa wasn't on the very top of that list (just about her dad, her step-monster, Che and Mitchell) then Summer would be living on an entirely different amount of money every week. Her budget would be screwed to hell and she'd possibly be in a lot of debt. Especially since Marissa was still living in Hawaii, working with her dad and dating a lifeguard.

More the living in Hawaii thing though—less the working with her dad and dating a lifeguard named Donovan. (Still, a huge, awesome step up from the spoilt stepdaughter of a gazshmillionaire dating the pool boy in Junior year).

"Of course I know him, Sum." Marissa breezed airily. "We're related."

Summer did a full on double take, dropping the grouped pens in her hand with a thunk to the table a couple of inches below. She stumbled into the chair of the desk before she got control of herself, and grasped the back of the chair. Ignoring her now throbbing toe, she stared incredulously at her own disgusting camper curtains. "Wait, _what?" _

Marissa laughed again. "Not _related, _related. But, you know, my marriage. You do know he was Caleb's grandson right?"

Summer paused. "Caleb your evil stepdad?"

"Yeah, that Caleb. Come on, you don't remember? You used to help me get ready for family dinners." Marissa said, the laughter fading slightly.

"Yeah, for that Chino kid. You mean, this Seth guy was there too?"

Marissa sighed.

Summer left another pause. So Seth was actually close to Marissa to a point. He seemed like a smart guy, and he was certainly interesting to talk to. In their five minute discussion at the coffee place, Summer had seen more of this guy than she had in the last five months from anyone else. Seth's movie rights/novel thing was a refreshing change of pace from the fresh faced ass-hats she was being forced to train (even though it was pretty damn obvious they weren't even remotely interested in saving the planet, just fluffing up their damn resumes). He was also good looking in that dorky-untapped potential kind of way, that she hadn't ever found interesting before. And then her instincts pretty much had her checking out his ass as he walked away. But it wasn't his ass, or his subtle charm that interested her so much.

Summer had been a bitch in high school.

Like, a full on, should have been spoken to by the police for some of the things she said to people, rude, arrogant bitch. When she'd been accepted to Brown through a compulsory essay that had somehow made its way to the admissions people, she'd gone across the country and learnt that there was a lot more to life than shoes and magazines.

And that was fine, really. But the more she got into the causes and the actual learning, the more she realised how much she disliked the girls who acted like she had.

That one had been a brutal epiphany. Marissa, who had been on a holiday back from Hawaii at that point, bringing Johnny, her surfer boyfriend of the time with her, had listened to Summer rant about this girl in her dorm (Sapphire. Don't even get Summer started on _Sapphire._) She'd shouted and screamed about the sheer arrogance of this chick, to be so rude to everyone around her and to have the audacity to have a stupid name like _Sapphire. _

And Marissa had just frowned. "Summer," she'd said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She's you. She is you like, four months ago."

Of course, initially Summer had taken it as a joke. "You better not be dissing my name, Cooper." She'd joked, before she'd noticed the serious look on her best friend's face.

And then it had hit her like a punch in the gut. Because if she was really honest (and being honest was one of those new leafs she'd been turning over lately) she _was _Sapphire. Or at least, the prettier, better endowed Sapphire of The OC. It had been embarrassing and frustrating because how had she now known what a colossal bitch she'd been back then? How could she have actually treated people the way she did? How could she so blatantly ignore people?

How could she forget the face of someone she'd gone to school with since Kindergarten?

And honestly, Summer wasn't liking this day one bit. Because in the space of about three hours, she'd had two more punch in the stomach from the fucking Hulk moments.

The first had, of course, been when her word vomit got the best of her and she'd said that stuff to Seth.

_Maybe I should have hung out with you in high school? _

Seriously, Summer? _Seriously? _

The look on Seth's face told her everything she needed to know. It was like she'd been the one throwing punches, and his muscles had seized up and he'd gotten defensive, and he'd walked out before she could even hand his phone back. And then she'd felt the metaphoric punch in the boob and before she knew it, she was texting his number to her own phone, and running after him. She'd checked out his ass in those jeans (and _wow),_ she'd given him back his phone, told him to expect her call, checked him out again, and then walked away.

And now? The second punch came in the form of that realisation.

That she really hadn't had a clue who Seth Cohen was, even if he had obviously been a largish part of her best friend's life. Summer could remember Ryan Atwood, the Newport Union kid who'd had a momentary thing with Marissa when he'd arrived until that had finished. Marissa had chosen Luke, gone to TJ with him, and slept with him when she found out her parents were getting divorced. It was only later on in the year that she found out about his slew of other girls and Summer had blacked out on his ass (the son of a bitch actually got a black eye from their encounter).

But if Summer could remember the kid from Chino, with the angsty thing pulled off to perfection—why the hell couldn't she remember the charming guy who'd seemed way too flustered by her appearance.

She'd obviously been absolutely horrible to him, she noted.

And she would have to make it up to him.

"I'm going to call him." Summer said decisively. "At least to apologise for being such a colossal bitch to him in high school."

Marissa didn't sound like she fully supported that plan of action. "Are you sure, Sum?" she asked nervously. "You don't even remember the guy."

Summer let out a frustrated noise. "That's the point! Don't you get it? He knew exactly who I was the second he saw my face. I had to call you to make sure he even actually existed. What the hell does that say about me? I've been trying and trying to be this better person, and it's not going to happen if there are more Seth Cohen's out there, hating me for being such a bad person."

Marissa sighed. "He doesn't hate you." She said sympathetically.

Summer smiled grimly. "I'm going to call him," she said again, making sure that she was convinced of this decision. "He deserves that much from me."

Summer could practically see the understanding look on Marissa's face. Then her tall friend sighed. "We're pushing out, Sum—so I'm going to have to go. We've got a new band on board and I need to show them the ropes."

Pushing out, in nautical terms, apparently meant leaving the dock/bay/beach that they had in Hawaii. Summer groaned, thinking of the place that Marissa was in right now, all while she froze her butt of in New York. "Find a time for me to come and visit," she ordered quickly.

Marissa laughed. "You're the one that's always busy." She protested. "But I'll look into it if you promise to make it this time," she joked.

"Promise. See you, Coop."

"See you, Sum."

Summer hung up the phone and stared down at the device for a moment. Now that she was quiet, she could hear her friends outside. They were parked in a caravan park, far outside the city itself and the island of Manhattan They'd taken multiple forms of transport to get in and out of the city that day, totalling in about four hours of travel if she added up the taxi and the subway and everything else.

Navigating the iPhone that Seth had dissed only hours earlier, Summer pulled up the message from Seth's phone. Surely, he wouldn't mind if she called, right? I mean, there was obviously no way that he was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him, but he would at least be expecting the call? Would Summer just apologise for his adolescent torture over the phone, or would she insist that they go out to dinner? What if he said no?

Summer swallowed a knot that suddenly formed in her throat, and then took a deep breath.

She was Summer fucking Roberts. She suffered from rage blackouts. She could call Seth Cohen.

She moved her thumb and pressed the call button.

.

Seth slunk back into the room with a look on his face that Zach, who was sitting in one of the couches of Seth's living room, recognised instantly. Looking away from the many, _many _papers that the two of them had to read, read again, and again and again, and then—maybe—sign after much consideration, Zach frowned.

"I take it Sophie wasn't pleased..." He observed in his cautious Zach-esque style.

Seth dropped into the opposite couch and let his head drop out, letting out a groan of self pity. "She_ cried, _man."

Zach inhaled. "Ooh—that's bad."

Seth used enough energy to roll his head a little forward, just to make sure that Zach could see the very sarcastic 'no shit' expression on his face. Then he fell back again. "If there's one thing about the Cohens', Zachary, it is that we know how to use our emotions as a weapon. To us, feelings are just tool with which we manipulate others. And Sophie has honed her skills well in her short years." He sighed again. "Are you sure we can't get Reed to move this thing?"

Zach shook his head regretfully. "Sorry man. She says it's the only night that the publishers are free and the director wants this meeting done before the end of the month."

A deadline that gave that three weeks left to sort this mess out, but still meant that Seth would be unable to attend his little sister's birthday dinner. When he'd spoken to his mum earlier, she too had refused to be the one to bear the news to her daughter. It was Seth's decision (even if it was only really that black and white to the seven year old he was letting down) and Seth was the one who had to deal with it. Seth didn't even consider asking Sandy to do it—there was no way to look at this that Sandy wouldn't automatically chalk up to character building. Even if, you know, creating characters was pretty much Seth's main source of income these days.

With another groan of effort, Seth pushed himself forward, leaning to the coffee table between the two men and grabbing his copy of the contract they were supposed to be looking over and fixing ('making notes on' Reed had told them, but really, who did she think she was kidding?).

"What page were we up to again?" Seth asked, flicking through the contract, trying to find something familiar in the block paragraphs of tiny black and white script.

Zach consulted his own highlighted-to-death edition. "Uhm, page fourteen—script input and production rights... we're looking at the clause that says that we are allowed to have a say in the script writing process, but changes are to be agreed upon at a middle ground, met by both us and other parties..." At Seth's continued bewildered expression, Zach looked down again. "Uhh... It's the fourth paragraph down, I think." He quickly counted before nodding his head again.

Seth had just found the passage when he mobile phone started vibrating again, making an odd noise on the table. "Jeez," Zach said, dropping his copy and leaning back with a smirk. "Social butterfly Seth Cohen, who'd have thought?"

Seth laughed sarcastically, hastily marking his spot on the page with a little line of yellow marker, before reaching for the phone. He didn't recognise the number on the screen, which was odd—since the only people who would have been calling him were Reed, or his parents (it was past nine o'clock which meant Ryan was out for the count—their time to talk had been severely cut down when they'd moved to different states)—but the monotony of the contract was getting to him, so he answered anyway.

"Hello?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he almost hung up when he finally heard a response: a couple of muttered swear words.

"Uhm, hello?" he tried again. "Who is this?"

There was a clatter as the phone on the other end was readjusted, and then a louder voice in his ear.

"Oh god, sorry about that." A distinctly feminine—unfamiliar—voice said from the small receiver. "I just knocked a whole lot of stuff off my desk—" she paused for a moment. "Uhm, is this Seth Cohen?"

This time it was Seth who paused. "Uh, yeah—who is this?" he repeated.

"It's Summer Roberts. I ran into you at the coffee shop earlier?"

This next break in conversation was less of a pause and more of an actual break—mostly because Seth was marvelling at how he couldn't have recognised the voice, while simultaneously falling into a state of shock. He blinked spastically for a moment before Zach's amused cough jerked him from his silence.

"Right!" he said, a little too loudly. "From Harbor."

Of course she was from Harbor, a voice shouted at him in his head. But what else was he going to say to that? Holy shit, you actually called me—are you sure you're the real Summer Roberts?

Still, however unnecessary the response, it served in two capacities. One, it was enough to intrigue Zach into leaning forward, a curious look on his face (with good reason, right—because who from their high school would be calling Seth Cohen?), but more importantly, it was an actual, English response—which Seth hadn't been sure his brain could handle.

Summer didn't seem to notice. She sounded a little off—probably distracted by the things she'd dropped off her table or something—but no less cheery than she'd been when he'd seen her earlier.

"Right." Summer said brightly. "Look, I know you probably didn't expect me to call so soon—" Wow, try _ever_. "—but I thought it would be best if I didn't let you forget my face. I'd love to catch up."

Seth paused.

Okay, no. This was too weird. Even if they had grown up in the last seven years—and taken large steps towards being actual human beings and not acting like the idiots they'd been in high school—there was no way that she was saying stuff like this to him. It just wasn't like her—and it definitely didn't mesh with the idea he had of her in his head.

So Seth just came right out and said it.

"Is this some sort of practical joke?" he shot out accusingly. "Because, I mean, this is just a little too weird for me—and that's a good explanation. Well, not good—because, well, we're _adults_ and have supposedly grasped that thing called maturity—but I mean, it's the only explanation I've got for why you would be calling me."

Another pause.

Then..,

"Jesus—I was _that _horrible to you in high school?" She asked incredulously.

Seth frowned, more confused than ever. "What?"

Summer didn't really pause anyway. "I mean, I was so horrible to you in high school that you'd assume me trying to catch up is some sort of high school prank?"

Another pause.

"Well, yeah." Seth said awkwardly.

Summer took a moment to take a deep, audible breath. "I have some stuff I'd like to say to you." She said slowly, after her deliberation. "But I am not doing it over the phone. Meet me at the coffee house tomorrow at three, alright?"

Seth was just a little too stunned to do more than say a hollow yes into the phone.

"Alright. See you then," Summer said. "Oh, and Seth?"

She caught him just as he was pulling away to hang up. Nervously, he lifted the phone back up to his ear. "Yeah?"

"It's not a prank, Cohen."

Then there was a dial tone.

.

.

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**A/N: **Yep, I'm definitely having problems with these characters. Advice? Tips? Lay them on me.

I'll update soon. Please review. **xx**


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